As for this infatuation—it’s like some obsession, some magic thing laid upon you. Nor had Jack been idle all this time. Yes, there was someone there. Pity you aren’t under my command. “I had found her at last, and she shot me. Mr. You care for me just a little, I know. The brilliant sunshine poured through the window, effecting an oblong block of mote-swimming light. To recreate the era, I deliberately tried to avoid creating a thinly disguised bodice ripper where an “empowered” woman mouthed off to prospective suitors in jerkins and tights, in other words, a typical romance novel.
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